


Out of Love

by EmmyKottakis



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 08:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16909509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyKottakis/pseuds/EmmyKottakis
Summary: Before the Reichenbauch fall, Jim has become obsessed with Sherlock Holmes, leaving Sebastian in the dust and barely talking at all.





	Out of Love

The days were a tainted gray that not even the sunlight could pierce, the nights an inky nightmare, a shadow spilling over everything that the sky’s bleakness could touch. Sebastian trudged down the hall, a soldier still lost at war, pausing for a moment in front of the flat door. His shoulders sagged, and his hand seemed to take a century on its way to the doorknob. He twisted it, and stepped inside, wishing again and again that he would be greeted by an up and alive mastermind, possibly screaming at him or dancing or doing one of those silly impulsive things that he would always do. But no. Not today, and not for weeks. Fucking *weeks*. Sebastian swung the door shut behind him. It was around evening time, and Jim was sitting one of the two places he always was: on the couch, his laptop on his thighs, his eyes blank and focused at the same time, so dreadfully distant in far off lands of thought that Sebastian could never reach. He barely glanced up as Sebastian stepped inside, he barely gave Sebastian any acknowledgement, his dark eyes pools of black, emotionless and plain. They used to seem speckled with hazel and glimmering in the light, but to Sebastian now they appeared dead. Lifeless. Gone.   
“I finished the checklist, boss.” Sebastian said, trying to keep his voice complacent. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure if Jim could hear him, if he was buried far too deep in whatever mind fortress he had built for himself. An old, angry knot built up in Sebastian’s chest, a burning of hate for Holmes. Fucking. Holmes.   
Sebastian would kill him, but he couldn’t. He was far too afraid that then he would lose Jim forever.   
Every morning, when Sebastian woke up, Jim would already be gone, or sitting in his office or on the couch. Sometimes Sebastian didn’t even know if he slept. He hadn’t seen Jim eat a significant meal in days. Sometimes Jim would leave a note, a checklist of jobs for Sebastian to do, written in hurried scrawls on the counter of the kitchen. Kill this person. Recruit this guy. All bullshit jobs. Jim never let him in anymore.  
“Is there anything else you’d like me to do?” Sebastian asked, his eyes running across Jim’s features. His hair seemed to have grayed more. How is that possible? His face was more gaunt, his jaw seeming to be permanently set in a determined clenched scowl.   
“You should get something to eat, Jim.” Sebastian suggested, hating how pleading and helpless his voice sounded. It was like talking to a wall. An emotionless, completely stone wall.  
A few moments passed, the only sounds filling the room the quiet clacking of Jim’s fingers dancing across the keyboard.   
“For fuck’s sake, Jim, you look like shit, you need to sleep, and you need to eat, and you need-”  
“I’m working, Sebastian.” Jim replied, his voice sounding as if he was speaking through grit teeth, his eyes not even raising from the screen of his laptop. Even his voice sounded dead, his usual Irish drawl that used to make Sebastian smile now bringing him sorrow.  
“Jim, fucking Holmes isn’t worth your health, he’s not worth this, you aren’t even acting *human* anymore!” Jim seemed content to let Sebastian yell while he stared blankly at his screen. “I need you, Jim, I need you to be *here*, in this flat, with me, not wherever your mind is lost at! Fuck-” Sebastian forced away tears. He had a whole speech prepared, he had whispered it to himself while shooting his recent victims, he had designed it perfectly. And now tears were flooding his vision. “This isn’t fucking *you*, Jim. You’re like a corpse now, you won’t even *talk* to me! You can’t just close yourself off to everything, to this, not now, I *need* you now. I can’t fucking live like this, Jim!” Sebastian’s breaths came shuddering as tears trailed down his cheeks. It was a sign of weakness, crying, and he found himself hoping that Jim would reprimand him, scream back, do *something* with *some* emotion, something to remind Sebastian that Jim was in there somewhere.  
“You’re going soft, Moran. You should never depend on another human.” Jim’s voice was calm, dead, reedy and piercing. He stood up, holding his laptop carefully in his hands, and just like that, he disappeared into his office.  
“Thanks for the fucking advice, it’s your fucking fault, you said we could make this work!!” Sebastian screamed at Jim’s retreating back, but he was already gone, so far gone that Sebastian knew no amount of tears would bring him back.


End file.
